Beauty and The Huntsman
by LadyThinksalot
Summary: A deal is made between two of the Queen's most valuable prisoners. Belle vows to reunite the Huntsman with his heart; he in turn promises to reunite her with the beast who'd stolen hers. Belle/Rumple Emma/Graham
1. Chapter 1

**Beauty and the Hunstman**

Summary: A deal is made between two of the Queen's most valuable prisoners. Belle vows to reunite the Huntsman with his heart; he in turn promises to reunite her with the beast who'd stolen hers.

**Pairings: **Rumplestiltskin/Belle, Emma/Graham, The Queen/Huntsman

**Disclaimers:**I do not own OUAT or any of it's characters.

A/N: In a world where Graham isn't dead but Regina and Dr Whale convince Storybroke that he is! I'm still very much in denial about the death of the hot Irish Sheriff :-( I haven't written anything in a long time, but I decided to try my hand at some OUAT fiction!

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><p><strong>Chapter 1 – Cracks in the Wall<br>**

The last thing he sees before his world slips into darkness is Emma's face, her eyes full of panic and the lips he'd just kissed screaming for help. When he finally awakes from the darkness the first thing he sees is grey; the padded walls, the door, the cot – everything varying shades of grey. His confusion deepened as his Sheriff's uniform had been replaced by hospital scrubs, as he started to sit up he could feel an ache in his chest and gave a wince of pain.

"Hello?" Graham's strained Irish voice broke the silence in the cell. The ache throbbed in his chest and suddenly he remembered. One moment he was kissing Emma, feeling more alive than ever, and the next he was on the floor having what he felt like was a heart attack.

_"From this moment forward you will do everything that I say, and if you __**ever**__ disobey me, if you ever try to run away… All I have to do is squeeze."_

Her voice invaded his head as he was attacked by a memory from his former life. Regina, the Evil Queen in all her dark finery clutching his heart in her hand and using it to control him. He'd tried to run away, right into Emma's arms. Of course the Queen had tried to kill him, it made sense – what did not make sense was why she hadn't finished the job.

Cautiously Graham stood from his cot, the pain somewhat easing off from his chest as he approached the padded door, "Hello?"

The Sheriff gave a bang on the door as he called out, "Regina!"

He was met with no answer.

He had been so close to his heart, to his freedom form the Queen's hold. He could hear it call out to him, but he hadn't moved swiftly enough. Now he had no idea where he was and how long he'd be stuck there.

"Somebody let me out of here!"

The Sheriff was left in silence for over an hour before he could hear someone fiddling with a key to his cell door. Finally it opened and in walked the very person the young Sheriff had expected was behind this. Regina's heels clicked along the floor before she closed the door behind her and made her way over to sit on the cot beside him.

"It's good to see you awake Sheriff, you gave us quite a scare," the Mayor's face was etched with what appeared to be concern. Having known her for as long as he had, Graham could tell it was a façade – the only moments he had ever seen her show concern for anyone but herself was whenever the matter would concern Henry.

Or was it?

A blinding pain over took his head, forcing him to momentarily close his eyes as his mind was attacked by more images. Memories…

_"It's nothing my dear – just a cold," a sickly old man protested, "No more,"_

_The Evil Queen's eyes were softer than the Huntsman had ever seen them, filled with genuine worry as she noticed how pale the old man was and the warmth of his forehead._

_"Daddy do not argue with me," The Queen ushered the old man into his chambers, standing at the door way as she ordered him to his bed. "Get some rest, I will send a maid to tend to you,"_

_The Huntsman watched his Queen close the old man's door before she marched down the hall, black skirts blowing behind her before she stopped in front of him and handed him what appeared to be a list of ingredients._

_"I expect these to be collected before night fall,"_

_There was no room for argument in her voice, and despite what he thought of the Queen – he knew her father was a good man, and in his own way he was almost just as much of a prisoner of the Queen as he was._

_"Yes your Majesty,"_

"Graham?"

The Sheriff startled into present day as he felt Regina's hand upon his shoulder, her dark eyes searching his. He flinched out of her touch and stood up from the cot.

"What's going on Regina?" he asked. "Why am I in here?"

"You've had a breakdown," Regina began to explain to him. "You'd been behaving rather peculiarly for days, searching for wolves in the forest, memory loss; you were even convinced you'd tried to hurt Mary Margret. Worst of all you tried to break into my father's tomb because you were convinced it's where I'd hidden your _heart_."

Graham frowned, "The last thing I remember is being the police station with Emma – and then darkness,"

"Dr Whale believes you suffered a minor heart attack. It's rare in someone so young but you have been under an awful lot of stress lately," She stood up, eyeing him with insincere sympathy. "I can't help but feel responsible; I've put you under too much pressure. The doctors and I feel it's best for you to take some time out to recover properly in an environment which can offer you the best help available. Don't worry about the hospital bills, I'll take care of everything,"

"Cut the crap Regina," The Sheriff squared up to the Mayor, towering over her. "You're not tryin' to help me 'get better' you're tryin' to keep me out of the way!"

The dark haired woman didn't even flinch at the angry Irish tone, "Why on earth would I want to do that?"

"Because I remember!" he almost growled at her.

The Mayor's red lips turned up into a dangerous smirk, "Remember what exactly? A world full of goblins and fairies? Witches and Warlocks? Heroic Princes, pretty Princesses and happily ever afters? Sounds like the ravings of a mad man to me,"

Graham stepped back as he realised she was right, he did sound delusional, but it didn't mean it wasn't true. Ever since he'd met Emma something had stirred within him, as if there were a wall within his mind blocking him from accessing parts of his life and it was about to come tumbling down. It was their kiss that had finally taken a sledge hammer to the bricks of that wall and everything from his former life came flooding back. Henry was right about the curse but he was just a child, no one would ever listen to him. No, the Queen couldn't risk someone like the Sheriff running around trying to wake people up from the miserable existence she'd created for them.

"I am not mad," he looked at her defiantly.

"Oh?" She tilted her head mockingly, "Well unfortunately your file says different Sheriff. Don't worry Graham, Dr Whale and his staff will take good care of you,"

She walked past him and gave a bang on the padded door, suddenly she felt Graham's grip on her arm as he forcefully pulled her back.

"You are not getting away with this, you hear me?"

"Let go of me," She ordered with an underlying threat in her tone, "Nurse!"

He tightened his grip on her as she attempted to pull free, "People will notice I'm missing! Emma won't just accept I'm gone. She'll look for me,"

The Mayor bit back a laugh as if he amused her, "Why would she look for a dead man?"

Graham felt his stomach lurch as her words caused his eyes to widen in horror. As the door opened Graham was caught off guard by a large, almost ogre-like man slamming into him and pushing him against the wall. The force almost knocked the wind out of him, but as he saw Regina begin to retreat from the cell he saw his freedom leaving with her. The urge to fight rose within him. He swore and kicked as he struggled against the large man.

He yelled after the Mayor furiously, "You won't get away with this!"

All he remembers is the malicious grin on the Queen's face as he feels a needle prick his skin, and then -

Darkness.

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><p>The road was a bumpy one as the black horses pulled the dark carriage along behind them. Looking out of the carriage window he could see a tall grey tower peeking out of the mass of green trees.<p>

"That's where we're going?"

The Huntsman turned to the Evil Queen who was more concerned with her bejewelled hand mirror than taking in the scenery outside of the carriage. She looked up briefly to acknowledge that he'd spoken to her before her attention was once again lost in the mirror.

"Yes dear. Inside the tower is a young woman being tortured by priests hoping to cleanse her soul of sin," she explained.

"Her sins?"

"Sir Maurice and his village were at war with the Ogre community, and of course they were loosing. Foolishly, they summoned Rumplestiltskin who offered victory against the Ogres in exchange for Maurice's daughter," The Queen explained nonchalantly.

The Huntsman chuckled incredulously, "Rumplestiltskin bargained for a wife?"

"Goodness no," The Queen laughed, "Well he claims he needed a house keeper but who knows what goes on behind closed doors? For whatever reason she developed feelings for that irritating little imp. The silly girl tried to kiss him to break his curse, so he threw her out. He couldn't bare the idea of being powerless,"

Astonishment crossed the Huntsman's features, "Rumplestiltskin broke a deal for this girl?"

The Queen nodded finally looking up from her mirror, "Which can only mean one thing,"

"He returns her feelings," He realised. "If she were to break his curse he would be left vulnerable against you,"

"Precisely," The Queen's red lips turned up into a scheming smirk, "When Maurice's daughter returned to him he was concerned the beast had tainted her purity and so called in the clerics. She's spent three days with little more than water and bread whilst having to endure periods of isolation and near drowning in icy waters. They're about to break out the scourges,"

The Queen handed the mirror over to the Huntsman. In it's reflection he saw not himself peering back but the image of a young brunette woman soaked and shivering on the ground in her white nightwear as two men in robes had a discussion about their next level of torture. The girl looked exhausted, but defiant despite what her captors had planned for her. There was something admirable about her.

"And our plan is to dispose of the priests, steal the girl and use her against Rumplestiltskin?"

"Well done," The Queen mock praised him as she snatched her mirror back from him. "Not just a pretty face after all,"

He couldn't help but scowl at the woman who had literally stolen his heart. The Huntsman was her puppet and if he wanted to stay alive he could not disobey her, but there were often days he wondered if a life lived this way was worth living. More often than not the Queen had him performing heinous acts against those who had wronged her, acts that threatened to contaminate his very soul with her evil. The Huntsman thought back to the terror filled eyes of the fairest woman he'd ever seen as he raised his dagger to strike her down, only to reconsider and create a safety whistle for her instead. His punishment for attempting to fool the Queen with a deer's heart was his own. It was never often the Queen would send him on a rescue mission, and as he pictured the poor girl locked in the tower with men he considered being no better than the Evil Queen herself, he hoped the rescue would bring him some redemption.

But in his soul he feared the Evil Queen had much worse plans for the girl.

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><p>The Sheriff wasn't sure how much time had passed since his visit from the Mayor and his outburst that caused the nurse to sedate him. All he knew was that it had been day light the last time he saw the small barred window of his cell and now the light that shone through was that of the moon. His limbs were stiff as he attempted to sit up in his cot while his head groggy from the drugs.<p>

Beside his cot he noticed a rounded tray with a plastic cup filled with water, a ham sandwich with a tub of jelly for afters. They may have falsely imprisoned him but at least they wouldn't let him starve he thought bitterly.

Graham stood up, shaky on his legs at first before he gained full control of his balance. He wasn't hungry; he was angry, and perhaps even a little scared. His hopes for Emma to charge in and play the white knight were dashed as Regina let slip that there would be no reason for the Deputy to be searching for a dead man.

The Mayor played dirty, he knew that – but surely she wouldn't be as cruel as to lie to the entire town about his death?

Then he remembered who Regina really was. In another world she was the infamous Evil Queen; the woman who split up children from their fathers just to see if love really was enough for family to find one another again, who poisoned her step daughter and who cut out her own father's heart.

A little white lie about Graham's demise would hardly phase her.

He thought of his friends who would mourn him. Granny's face as Ruby would break the news to the old dear. Mary Margret's tears and her inevitable and irrational feeling of regret, insisting she should have realised he was unwell as soon as he visited her at school. Henry would no doubt blame himself for showing the Sheriff his book, believing that some how the curse had killed him for remembering and Emma -

There was an ache in the place his heart should be as he thought of the blonde whose kiss restored his true memories. She'd spent a life time being alone and shutting out the world but some how Graham had slipped through her doors that she'd kept so tightly locked, but only just for a moment before he was ripped away from her.

The thought renewed his anger and he began to beat on the padded door, taking out all his pains and frustrations on the blasted thing. He couldn't understand why Regina hadn't just finished him off? Clearly she wanted to torture him, punish her pet for disobeying her and choosing Emma's side over hers. After 28 years of Storybroke he'd almost forgotten just how vindictive the Queen could be.

Tiring himself out after his failed attempt to either beat down the door or draw the attention of a nurse or an orderly, the Sheriff groaned in defeat as he slid down to sit on the ground against the wall.

He sat there in the cold silence for a moment before he could faintly hear a noise, a noise that sounded like scratching. The Sheriff prayed that his prison wasn't infested with mice, or worse rats. He almost jumped as one of the padded cushions fell off his cell wall; he immediately got to his feet. A feminine accented voice spoke quietly through a small whole in the wall.

"Hello?"

"Hello?" Graham said back, peering through the hole in the dry wall that was no bigger than his fist. He couldn't see much as the next room appeared to be darker than his own, but he could make out the facial features of a young woman. Even in the darkness he could feel a familiar pull to her, the eyes and her voice struck a cord within his mind.

"Are you alright in there? You sound terribly upset," She asked, concern lulling in her voice. A genuine concern unlike what Regina had offered earlier in the day.

Graham only stared, somewhat opened mouthed as he tried to picture her face – remember her name.

The girl took this pause to mean offence and quickly tried to apologise, "I'm sorry for intruding! I didn't mean to pry… I just haven't had anyone to talk to in such a long time. A man named Mark Hare used to live in your cell, he spent a lot of time working on this hole – he couldn't stand the silence. I'm not quite sure what happened to him," She spoke sadly, "Now I only ever get visits from the Mayor and to be quite honest she scares me too much to enjoy her company,"

"How long have you been here?"

"I think I've been here about…" The girl tried to answer; he could hear the uncertainty in her voice, "I'm sorry I can't quite remember,"

She'd been stuck down in this cell since the beginning of the curse Graham realised. Just as Mary Margret couldn't remember when they had met this girl couldn't remember how long she'd been trapped in the psych ward.

"What's your name?"

"Graham," the Sheriff answered, "What's yours?"

"Isabelle," she replied with a smile in her voice.

Isabelle. The name struck him like a lightning bolt, his eyes closed and his mind was once again suddenly filled with memories from a past life. He could see the girl's crystal blue eyes staring at him with empathy, brown curls falling over her shoulders as she would reach out to comfort him. Her voice echoed in his head from days long gone.

_"Just because you have no heart does not mean you have no soul,"_

"Graham?" Isabelle's worried voice brought him back to the present. He'd been quiet for too long.

Rubbing at the ache in his forehead he turned back to the hole in the wall where the girl was looking at him expectantly. He could feel an agonising guilt crash over him as memories of her hit him like a tidal wave.

"Belle," he spoke, voice shaking in shame while the girl in the other cell looked confused. "I am so sorry,"

"For what?"

She didn't remember. The Sheriff opened his mouth to explain when the loud clanging of a door and two mumbled voices interrupted their silence. Isabelle looked startled and her face disappeared from sight for a second as she scrambled to find something.

"Quick," She whispered, "Fix your side of the wall – We'll speak when it's quieter!"

Hurriedly he did as he was told and was once again left alone in his cell. The trouble was now his thoughts were not only worried for the lies being spread to his friends in Storybroke but they were also plagued with guilt.

Guilt from forgetting; and allowing his friend to rot in this prison for twenty eight years.

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><p>AN: Constructive Criticism Appreciated Lads!


	2. Chapter 2

**Beauty and The Huntsman**

A/N:

Thank you all so much for the kind reviews! I appreciate all the nice words, and I welcome any criticisms or ideas you may have to share. Formalities aside how excited is every one for the Mad Hatter episode? Eeek! It looks so good. Anyways. Hope you like the next instalment!

P.S Apologies if the last two scenes are in bold - I didn't type them that way and have tried to fix it, but have had no joy - if any of you nice folk could tell me what I did wrong I'd be grateful!

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><p><strong>Chapter 2 – Funerals and Rescues<br>**

There have been no tears since the night it happened but she can feel her hands start to shake as she stares down at the coffin about to be lowered into the ground. The sun is beating down on the crowd gathered for the burial and many have taken off their jackets, but Emma can't stop shaking. The blonde suddenly feels a delicate hand clasp hers and as she looks to her right she sees Mary Margaret's tear stained face trying to give her a supportive smile. Emma is grateful for her and squeezes Mary Margaret's hand in return.

She had been angry in the first few hours after Graham's death. The unfairness of it all made her want to smash every mirror insight; she felt as if there were a curse upon her. Mere moments after she kissed him Graham slipped away in her arms. When Doctor Whale arrived on the scene he pronounced the Sheriff dead before the ambulance had taken the body to the morgue.

The memory of the soft brush of his stubble against her face as the kissed in their office was lost to the feeling of his heavy and motionless body in her arms as he died. It was a perfect moment with the most tragic of endings.

Emma doesn't hear much of what the Priest is saying. Her eyes wander over the other guests to the funeral of the town Sheriff and she's not surprised at the large turn out. Granny's Diner had been closed as a mark of respect for Graham, Ruby was dressed in the most modest outfit Emma had ever seen her wear since arriving in Storybroke and the waitress was currently crying on her Grandmother's shoulder. The old woman herself wore the face of a lady who'd seen far too much loss in her life time and the Sheriff would be another to add to the list.

Near the back of the crowd she could see David with Kathryn – neither particularly knew Graham well yet apparently attended out of respect, but Emma knew better. She'd bet money on it being David's idea to show up; he'd been less than subtle with his concerned glances towards Mary Margaret – it was all the man could do not to push through the crowd and wipe her tears away. Irrationally the thought made Emma angry, if he wasn't here for Graham then why show up at all?

Sean stood with his arm around Ashley who held their baby close to her chest; Emma could read the look in Ashley's eyes as she peered up at her baby's father. It was one that conveyed her fear of loosing him; the girl would surely crumble if a fate such as Graham's fell on her love so young. And there it was – the feeling hit Emma like a sledge hammer, jealousy. The Deputy suddenly became aware of her facial expressions and worried she may be scowling at Ashley and her new family. The young blonde mother had everything Emma never knew she wanted; a loyal man and a child who would love her forever. She didn't have to share either of them with Regina.

Henry had taken the news of Graham's death harder than she'd thought. The kid had been as pale as a ghost for days – she worried he was making himself sick out of some twisted sense of guilt. When Mary Margaret had commented on how he'd fallen asleep in class the other day she knew he wasn't sleeping at night. Emma decided to concentrate on her worry for Henry rather than her grief for Graham – the former was easier to deal with. She could help Henry, but there was nothing she could do to bring her partner back.

The blonde suddenly became aware of the quiet as the Priest moved aside to allow the Mayor to come forward. The cut on her red lips had faded nicely since their altercation in the cemetery. Regina let go of her adoptive son's hand as she left him in the care of Archie and Marco while she stood to say a few words.

"Thank you all for coming," Regina looked over the crowd. "We all knew Sheriff Graham a long time; so long I can't ever remember a life without him. I remember when my son was younger; he'd run off into the woods and gotten lost. Henry has an adventurous and curious nature you see," She smiled fondly before continuing. "We spent the whole night searching for him and with every passing hour I got more and more terrified but Graham comforted me, he promised he'd bring my son home before dawn. I'll never forget the victorious smile on his face when he met me by the side of the woods with Henry asleep in his arms just before the sun came up."

Emma glanced to Henry; the kid still couldn't take his eyes off the coffin. By the look in his eyes it was as if he'd killed Graham himself. He was tortured; and from a distance there was nothing Emma could do and it broke her heart.

Regina carried on, "He was a fair and just man. He did a fine job serving as Sheriff enforcing our laws and keeping our streets safe, but more than that he was loyal friend not only to me but everyone in Storybroke."

Emma resisted the urge to roll her eyes; the Mayor and the Sheriff were friends alright, friends with 'benefits' that is. She could still remember the rage across Regina's face as Graham called her out on the coldness of their relationship and ended things. Admittedly Emma felt she had goaded the Mayor more than necessary afterwards, she shouldn't have been so surprised when Regina lashed out at her. Looking at the Mayor now Emma felt a pang of guilt as she could see the woman fighting tears, she could understand how Regina felt as if she was usurping her world first with her son and then with her lover. Maybe she was to blame? If only Regina wasn't so cold…

"He loved this town," Regina continued her voice faltering for just a second. "And for him to be torn apart from us so early in life is nothing short of a tragedy, but we will remember him. Always,"

Regina stepped away from the front of the crowd and took her place beside Henry while Sydney patted her shoulder, complimenting her speech. Emma could suddenly feel a number of eyes on her; the Priest's being one of them.

"You'll be fine," Mary Margaret nudged her. "Speak from the heart,"

Emma couldn't hide the panic on her face as she stepped in front of the group of mourners. She was no where near as well put together as the Mayor. Speak from the heart? How could she do that when her heart was speaking a foreign language? Inside her head she was screaming - she'd been quiet for too long, she had to say something. Anything.

"Graham was…" Emma sounded nervous; clearing her throat she tried to steady herself. "Graham was my friend. In fact he was the first friend I made when I came to Storybroke. He gave me a chance when, if I'm honest, I didn't think any of you really would. Not that I blame you – I wouldn't have trusted me either."

"He was quick, he was witty and he gave as good as he got in an argument – and boy with me as a Deputy there sure were a good few of those. Graham put his neck on the line… for me. No one has ever done that before," she spoke wistfully as she replayed the memory of him handing her the Deputy badge over in her mind.

_"A tie?" Emma held up the horribly dull uniform shirt across her chest, "You know you don't have to dress a woman up as a man to give her authority,"_

_Graham snickered, "So you think you can get people to do what you want in that red coat?"_

_Emma smirked in return, "I'm getting you to do what I want right now,"_

_She could see she was winning from the ever so slightly amused look in his eye as she tossed the horrendous shirt back on to the desk. Emma was far from the frilly dresses and lace kind of girl, but even she drew the line at moss green shirts with black ties._

_"Well at least wear the badge," Graham stipulated holding it out to her._

_Emma grimaced, uncertainly._

_Graham insisted, "Go on, take it,"_

The memory of his voice sent her trembling and there was an anxious tightening in her chest.

"I know I didn't know him as long as the rest of you, but I -" Emma could feel her hands shaking again, sending a quiver to her voice, "I just don't want to let him down,"

Emma's eyes darted back and forth as her panic returned. She could feel her thoughts breaking down as she realised she'd be running the Sheriff's office on her own. What if she messed up? Who would have her back? Who would take her to Granny's for a drink after a hard days work? A horrible feeling of loneliness crept over her as she realised Graham was really gone. Her eyes began to leek and it took her a second to realise she was actually crying in front of everybody. She couldn't take their stares; God knows what they were thinking…

_She barely knew the guy. What right does she have to speak at the funeral?_

_This blubbering mess is who Graham left in charge?_

_I'm glad it's not me up there._

_Poor girl, was she in love with him?_

Instinctively she sought out Mary Margaret's face.

"He's not coming back is he?"

It took barely seconds for Mary Margaret to be at the blonde's side. The school teacher put her arms around her room-mate for a comforting embrace before leading her away from the front of the crowd. Emma wasn't quite sure what it was about her friend, but there was something about being in Mary Margaret's arms that made her feel like it was ok to let go of everything and shut down her walls.

Emma cried silent tears into her best friend's shoulder as they lowered the coffin of the man she almost loved into the ground.

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><p>Emma found her way back to Graham's grave side later that night. She'd needed some air to clear her head; the young Deputy couldn't help but feel embarrassed about breaking down at the funeral. She felt so weak – angry at herself for allowing the town to see her vulnerable. Mary Margaret's fussing had begun to irritate her, as much as she was grateful to the woman for everything she'd done for her she couldn't help but feel trapped. The school teacher wanted Emma to open up to her about her feelings and that was just something Emma wasn't quite ready to do. Truth be told she wasn't even sure what she was feeling. She had cared for Graham deeply, but she couldn't understand why the death of a man she'd known less than a few months had affected her so badly.<p>

The sun had just gone down and the sky was filling with stars. Staring upwards she realised the sky was so much clearer in Storybroke than it ever was in Boston. The moon seemed so much bigger and the stars appeared to sparkle.

"Star light, star bright," His voice startled Emma, "First star I see tonight,"

Turning around Emma saw Mr Gold making his way over to her, cane in hand and wearing his usual black suit. She was in no mood to deal with his mind games and taunts.

"What do you want Gold?"

"Nothing Miss Swan. I was merely here to show my respect for the dearly departed Sheriff. I saw you looking rather lost at the sky and thought I'd check to see how you were," He answered truthfully from what Emma could tell. She sensed no hidden agenda from the older man as she usually did.

"I didn't see you at the funeral today – in fact you were probably the only person in town I didn't see," Emma observed, redirecting the conversation topic from how she was feeling.

Mr Gold gave a light shrug, "I've never liked funerals. To be surrounded by a crowd of people openly crying and pretending to grieve makes me uncomfortable. However that is not to say I didn't have respect for the Sheriff, he was a valiant young man. It's a shame that his relationship with the Mayor often clouded his judgement,"

Surprise lit up Emma's eyes, "You knew about him and Regina?"

The older man gave a self-assured grin, "There's not a lot I don't know Miss Swan. I had high hopes that Graham would come to his senses after he employed you as Deputy. You would have made a powerful match,"

Emma avoided the pawnbroker's eyes and gazed at the fresh head stone with her friend and partner's name engraved upon it. She didn't want to imagine what kind of couple she and Graham would have made and she certainly didn't want to share her feelings with Mr Gold. She was well aware owing the man a favour was a dangerous problem; the last thing she wanted was for the town's 'God Father' to be able to exploit a weakness from her.

She stood up from her kneeling position on the grass and gave a heavy sigh, "I should get back to Mary Margaret – she's been fussing all day, trying to be supportive but I just needed some air, you know?"

"Suffocating you is she?" Mr Gold pried. "The girl has a good heart; it's in her nature to mother people. I'm sure she's only worried about you,"

"Yeah well," Emma dusted herself off, "I've been looking after myself for most of my life, I don't need any mothering."

There was a bitterness in her tone that Emma couldn't stop seeping through, and from the twitch of Mr Gold's brow she could tell he didn't miss it.

"G'night Mr Gold," the blonde gave the caned man a nod before walking by him – wanting nothing more than to rid herself of his invasive presence. It was like every second she spent with him he was taking something from her; yet she wasn't quite sure what.

"Miss Swan?"

Emma stopped reluctantly, crossing her arms as she turned to face him once more, "Yes?"

"We're not so different you and I," He told her. "We both have our walls, different reasons for them of course but I can see from the way you carry yourself that you've become accustomed to your own company. People like us tend to keep a distance from others. We hold every one at arms length, or worse; deliberately scare them off just to avoid an inevitable disappointment. You feel cursed," **  
><strong>  
>The blonde shifted uncomfortably as she felt Mr Gold tapping at those metaphorical walls with that cane of his. She didn't like feeling so exposed. "What's your point?"<p>

"My point is," Mr Gold took a step towards her, "Don't push Mary Margaret away. If she sees something in you worth loving and caring for then be thankful. Lord knows good friends are hard to come by, especially for people like us,"

Emma could see a rare flicker of sincerity cross Mr Gold's features before he moved to walk in the opposite direction.

"Good night Miss Swan,"

The blonde Deputy stayed for a moment and watched the pawnbroker limp down the cemetery path. Perhaps there was more to the town loan shark than she had previously suspected.

* * *

><p>Exhausted and weak Belle fought uselessly against the hands that forced her head into the tub of icy cold water for the umpteenth time. When they had first began she'd assumed she would eventually become accustomed to the sharpness of the cold as the water hit her face – but it still caught her breath every time. She could hear the priests gathered around her chanting; their voices muffled by the water surrounding her ears. Contrasting to the sting of the cold on her skin was the fire in her lungs as she struggled to hold her breath. She was better than this; she would not allow herself to be drowned in a miniature bath tub.<p>

Her captor's hands pulled her head up and she sucked in a greedy amount of air, her wet brown hair slapped against her back soaking her already damp nightdress further.

"The plunging isn't working," One of the clerics sighed closing his book.

"Agreed," Another nodded.

Belle's vision began to clear as one of the Clerics bent down in front of her, searching her face for traces of corruption and evil.

"Will you admit your sins child?"

Belle looked at him desperately, "I've told you – I have done nothing. _We _did nothing! I was just a maid!"

The cleric shook his head, standing up once more as he exchanged a look with one of his brethren. Belle felt one of the clerics pull her up from her knees by the tub, hungry and sleep deprived she could barely struggle as she was hauled over to a chair being forced to sit.

Belle couldn't stop her legs from shaking as the Priests began their chanting; she'd learned whatever followed the chanting was never good. Dread filled her stomach as two of the clerics held her in place and her eyes widened as she saw one of the men pulling a red hot poker from the fireplace.

"No," She shook her head as he neared her, "Please – no, don't!"

She could feel the searing heat radiating from the metal as it hovered inches from her arm. Belle bit her lip as she prepared herself for the burn, adamant that she would not scream when all of a sudden the door came crashing open.

"Let her go,"

For a brief second Belle had let herself hope Rumplestiltskin had reconsidered his feelings and stormed the tower to save her; it wouldn't have been the first time she had wished for it over her days of torture. Looking towards the sword drawn man threatening the cleric who held the poker she could see her saviour was far from Rumplestiltskin. The man was much taller, wider shoulders with a mess of short sandy brown curls for hair and a stubbly beard.

"Young man you have no place here," The cleric whom the man's sword was pointed at gulped, trying to remain defiant despite the poker falling with a clang to the floor.

"No, this girl has no place here," he corrected the cleric, "Not with you and your cult of mindless cretins,"

"Now, now my pet," A new voice spoke from the door. "No need for name calling,"

Belle felt a chill as she remembered that voice, her eyes found the owner and sure enough she had guessed correctly. It was the woman on the road- no it was the Queen. Suddenly she didn't feel quite like being rescued. She could see the Clerics visibly blanch at her presence, they too feared her.

"Your Majesty," One of them addressed her with a shaky tone to his voice.

The Queen gave a satisfied grin as she obviously fed off their fear before she stepped into the room. Her long and embellished skirts dragged across the floor as she moved to the side of the bearded man with the sword who had yet to take his eyes off the cleric in front of him.

"Kneel before the Queen," The man with the sword ordered the Clerics, Belle watched with frightened eyes as all of the Clerics complied with the demand and the man kept the blade of his sword near the neck of one of the holy men.

"We're here to take the Lady Belle to somewhere she will be more comfortable," The Queen announced.

"But her father said-"

"Her father lost all claim to her the moment he gave her to a demon as a prize for resolving the Ogre wars," The Queen interrupted with a dangerous glare in her eyes. "Either get out of my way or prepare to meet your maker,"

To emphasise the Queen's words the man with the sword pushed his blade closer to the neck of the Cleric in front of him, the fear in the holy man's eyes reminded Belle much of her own as she had prepared to be branded.

"She's yours," The Cleric relented nervously.

"Perfect," The Queen's scowl disappeared and was replaced with a complacent smile as the other Clerics backed away from Belle as if she were a disease. The Queen held her hand out towards Belle and the young girl stared at it with uncertainty.

The Queen sensed her hesitation, "You can come with me quietly or kicking and screaming. It's your choice my dear,"

Belle eyed the door way for a moment, wondering if perhaps she would be able to make a run for it. If this woman was as powerful as she thought then running would do no good. Shakily Belle took the Queen's hand and got to her feet.

"There's a good girl," The Queen patronised before leading Belle towards the stairs of the tower. She stopped briefly to look over her shoulder. "Huntsman dear, take care of the loose ends,"

Belle froze for a second as she understood the Queen's order.

"Yes your Majesty," The Huntsman obeyed.

One of the Cleric attempted to plea for their lives, "But you said—Please no!"

"Come Belle," The Queen began to force the girl to walk down the spiral staircase of the tower. "He can be a little messy when it comes to his work,"

Screams filled the tower.

Belle wasn't sure if she should be grateful.

* * *

><p>Isabelle refused to move from her position, curled up in the corner of her cell as the nurse attempted to coax her from the cold floor.<p>

"Isabelle it's time to take your medication," the nurse did her best to hide her frustration with the younger girl.

The patient shook her head, "I don't need it today,"

The nurse frowned stepping closer with a plastic cup of water and selection of pills, "You say that everyday. We're only trying to help you sweetheart, these will make you better,"

"I don't need to get better," Isabelle mumbled bitterly, "I need to get out of here,"

"Refusing medication won't make that happen any quicker," The nurse thrust the cup of water and the pills into the brunette girl's hand. "Now take 'em. We don't want a repeat of last time do we?"

Isabelle gave the nurse a scowl as she relented, downing her pills and taking a few gulps of water. Once the nurse was satisfied that she had not hidden any of the pills under her tongue or at the top of her mouth she left Isabelle alone once more.

She wasn't quite sure how long she'd repeated this routine for. Day after day was the same thing; she hated the pills they made her memories blur and the world hazy. Worst of all they left her with a nauseous feeling in her stomach and made her feel so very weak. If the chance to escape ever arouse she was sure she'd barely make it up the stairs to the hospital wards.

That wasn't to say she'd know where she would run to if she ever made it out of the hospital. Isabelle had no idea what the world was like out of her prison made of grey padded walls – part of her was terrified of what waited for her on the outside but the stronger part was desperate to know. She longed to stare at the sky, to feel both the sun and the rain on her skin or the crunch of the snow against her feet. Isabelle faintly remembered the sensation of weather in all its different forms; however her memory drew a blank as she tried to think of a moment when she had physically been outside of the ward.

She could feel the medication begin to take its toll as her stomach began to swirl, she pressed her lips hard together as she fought the urge to vomit. If she was sick she feared the nurse may insist on giving her more pills. She breathed in deep and out slowly as the nausea began to fade. Isabelle could hear raised voices coming from the next cell.

Graham.

He was arguing with the nurse, and by the sounds of it he was becoming irate. Isabelle sighed and shook her head. She wanted to yell to him to calm down, if he kept resisting treatment she feared they would tranquilise him again and force the medication into his system. She'd had that and it was far from preferable.

Isabelle wondered what was wrong with her new ward mate in order for him to be sent to the psych ward. Did he have a split personality? Was he depressed? Anger problems? In all honesty she wasn't quite sure what her papers claimed she was diagnosed with. Delusional, violent and potentially suicidal she'd heard one of the nurses say sometime ago. It baffled her – she didn't feel particularly suicidal, but she supposed the Doctors knew best. After all they were experts.

The argument from next door ended abruptly and Isabelle felt her body tense with worry. She could hear the tones of the nurse's voice speaking to someone else, but she was fairly sure Graham was out for the count.

She was going to have to wait hours for the next time she'd be able to speak to her new friend and learn more about him.

And what ever did he mean when he'd said he was sorry?


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Thank you so much once again for your lovely reviews! Glad to see so many additions to the story alert numbers as well! Ooh! And well done to those who spotted the March Hare shout out in chapter one, after seeing Sunday's Mad Hatter episode I only wish I could think of a way to write the wonderful Jefferson into this story.

Enjoy the next instalment!

* * *

><p>Chapter 3 – Friends and Old Memories<p>

The carriage ride had been quiet, the Queen had told her not to worry and that she was safe now. Belle didn't believe a word of it. She wanted nothing more than to throw herself out of the black carriage and run into the woods, but she had seen the Queen's entourage and knew she couldn't possibly out run them in her current state.

The Queen had urged her to rest, but Belle couldn't fathom sleeping and leaving herself vulnerable while so close to the woman who'd just ordered the deaths of four men without a second thought. Despite this Belle felt herself pulled into sleep – however she was fairly sure it wasn't her own doing. The Queen had begun to hum softly and before she knew it she was out for the count.

The next time she woke up she was lying on a soft bed in a luxurious chamber room. The décor was themed with deep purples, glossy blacks and silvers. She sat up from her pillows with her mouth slightly agape – this was certainly not what she expected after being taken by her Majesty. She'd expected dungeons, chains and cold stone floors – not a room fit for a Princess.

As she stood up from the bed she suddenly noticed a change in her attire. Her dirty white night dress was gone and some one had dressed her in a soft mint green dress in her sleep. Belle couldn't help but feel violated at the idea of some one undressing her whilst she was dreaming – however the dress was lovely. It was comfortable, and not overly extravagant. The feel of it reminded her somewhat of the blue dress she'd worn in Rumplestiltskin's estate.

Rumplestiltskin.

Belle's eyes widened somewhat as the deal maker crept into her thoughts. Did he know where she was? Had he heard about her father disowning her? What would he do when he learned of her torture? Would he do anything at all?

Sadness washed over her as she remembered their final exchange.

_"I don't want you anymore dearie,"_

The words broke her heart. She hadn't wanted to believe it at the time, but perhaps it was true. Rumplestiltskin would do nothing because he did not love her – the Queen was wasting her time, and when she realised that Belle wasn't sure what would become of her. A knock on the door broke Belle's train of thought.

"Y-yes? Who is it?" Belle tried to sound more confident than she felt.

The door creaked open slowly and in walked the tall man with the sword from before. Belle felt her body tense as she remembered the screams of the clerics as they'd exited the tower. The man in front of her looked so detached from the awful things he'd done, but his movements were tired as if he'd rather be anywhere else in the world. What was it the Queen had called him? Her Huntsman?

"The Queen requests you dine with her," He instructed.

Belle looked hesitant, "And if I refuse?"

The Huntsman gave a slight sigh, "I don't recommend it,"

"You forget I spent a year as Rumplestiltskin's prisoner – Your Queen doesn't scare me," Belle placed her hands on her hips defiantly.

"Prisoner?" The Huntsman chuckled, "I don't mean to be rude Miss but I think we both know you were more to him than just a girl he let rot in his dungeon. You're the only person Rumplestiltskin has ever broken a deal with – unfortunately for you this fascinates the Queen. She wants to know what makes you so special,"

"So she can use it against him?"

The Huntsman nodded, "Look I know you're scared-"

"I'm not scared," Belle snapped.

The Huntsman scoffed, "Yeah. Right. Of course you're not. Anyway, if you don't want to make your situation any worse I suggest you just do as the Queen asks. She's not a woman who takes no for an answer,"

Belle frowned as in her heart she knew the man was right, upsetting the Queen would get her no where fast. Defiance may not be the best plan of action.

"Fine," Belle walked over to him, "Let's get this over with,"

The brunette followed him down a long corridor, mirrors lining the walls at every turn. Belle was a little surprised as she saw her own reflection; after all she had spent months being forbidden from looking in one. She hadn't quite understood why Rumplestiltskin hated mirrors so much, at first she thought he may be ashamed of his appearance but she soon realised this was untrue as he began to yell at a mirror after their kiss. He had been talking to the Queen, some how she was able to keep track of people through mirrors. It explained the eerie feeling that crept over her as she passed each one, as if someone where watching her.

Two guards dressed in black armour opened a pair of large doors in front of Belle and the Huntsman, revealing the Queen's dining room. It wasn't a particularly large room as it was evident the Queen didn't do a lot of entertaining.

"Just in time for dinner," The Queen smiled from the dining table, "Come my dear, have a seat,"

Belle moved cautiously from the Huntsman's side and took a seat at the dining table. A plate was already laid out for her with a cut of chicken breast, some vegetables and some bread with butter.

"That will be all Huntsman," The Queen waved away the man, who bowed before leaving the two women alone to their meals.

"You poor child, you must be starving after your ordeal. Eat," The Queen's voice forced a sympathetic tone.

Belle eyed the food in front of her suspiciously for a moment, she wanted to say 'No thank you, I'm not hungry,' but as the smell of perfectly cooked food hit her she found the words impossible to say. It stood to reason that if the Queen wanted her dead she wouldn't have made the effort to rescue her from the clerics, she doubted her food would have been poisoned. She picked up her cutlery and took a mouthful of food as she was told.

"I can't help but feel guilty," The Queen sighed with regret, "Had I not given you that advice about true love's kiss then you would never have ended up in that awful tower with the Clerics,"

After swallowing her food, Belle carefully put down her knife and fork. "Why did you bring me here?"

"It was the least I could do," She answered, "I shouldn't have interfered,"

"You wanted me to break his curse didn't you?" Belle asked.

The Queen took a long drink from her wine before replying, "I won't deny that if Rumplestiltskin were to loose his powers that it would be beneficial to me,"

"Well as you can see my kiss did not work," Belle looked sullen, "He does not love me,"

The Queen laughed, "My dear if that were true he would have never let you go. I'd go so far to say you terrified him. That makes you a very valuable ally,"

Belle frowned, "What makes you think I'm your ally?"

"After what he did to you, surely you want revenge?" The Queen questioned. "You gave him your heart and he stepped on it – he threw you to the wolves, hasn't even bothered to check if you're still alive. All because he's afraid you'll cause him to loose his precious power. Doesn't that make you furious?"

Belle avoided her gaze and instead to a drink of her own wine, "No, not really,"

"You've no need to lie to me dear," The Queen spoke in an uncharacteristically soothing voice. "I know your pain – I understand a broken heart never really heels. It can make us do unspeakable things, but sometimes we need closure in order to move on with our lives. Your wound is fresh and you need time to think, you will stay here in my castle for one week. In that week you will be cared for, and when the sun sets on the last day I will ask you again if you will join me,"

"And what if my answer is still the same?"

The Queen gave her a dark look, it only lasted for a second but Belle could see it, the warning in her eyes.

"I'm sure you will make the right decision,"

* * *

><p>It was the middle of the night again.<p>

Graham struggled to steady his vision as the drugs played havoc with his senses; he could swear he could hear someone whispering his name.

"_Graham,_"

The ex-Sheriff gave a frown as he momentarily considered the true state of his sanity, until he noticed the padded cushion from the wall on the floor of his cell. Some one was calling him.

"Belle?"

"You're awake! Finally, I was getting worried,"

Graham staggered over to the hole in the wall, peering through he could see her blue eyes filled with relief.

"You shouldn't have fought them," Isabelle scolded.

"They were trying to give me drugs that I don't need," Graham argued.

The brunette on the other side of the wall sighed, "I know it's hard to accept Graham, but these people are Doctors. They're professionals; they know what they're talking about. How do you ever expect to get better if you don't take your medication?"

"I'm not sick – and neither are you!"

"How do you know that?" Isabelle eyed him sceptically, "You don't even know me,"

"That's what I was trying to tell you last night," Graham replied, "I do know you. We know each other from a long time ago. About twenty-eight years to be precise,"

"How is that possible? I'm not even twenty-eight years old…"

"It's a long story, it's beyond imagination," Graham rubbed his forehead. "Trust me I'm still trying to get my head around it myself,"

Isabelle didn't look convinced, "This is what I'm talking about – Graham you've only just met me. We couldn't possibly have known each other twenty eight years ago, I wasn't even born!"

The girl was brain washed by both the drugs and the curse. He should have expected that, even if she did have a glimmer of her memory somewhere inside she'd been told everyday for the last twenty eight years that she was mad. Graham sighed in defeat as he realised trying to convince her wasn't going to be as easy as he thought.

"Listen to me Belle-"

"Isabelle," She corrected him.

"What?"

"You keep calling me Belle, that's not my name," She insisted with a hint of uncertainty in her voice. "It's Isabelle,"

Graham latched onto that unsure feeling she conveyed through her voice, "You don't sound too sure about that. Doesn't the name sound strange to you? Like it's close, but it's not quite right?"

There was a moment of silence as Isabelle pondered the idea. The name 'Isabelle' had always sounded a little off to her. When ever the hospital staff would use it she had an urge to look around her, as if they were searching for someone else.

"Belle try to remember a time before you were put in here,"

Her blue eyes narrowed in thought as she wracked her brain, trying to remember a time before gray padded walls and blue scrubs. She remembered only daily pill doses, occasional visits from the Mayor, cryptic conversations with the man who used to live in Graham's cell about how time had been murdered, and Graham's recent arrival. She could remember nothing of her childhood; she couldn't even picture her father's face.

"I-" Belle looked puzzled, "I can't. I remember nothing… perhaps the drugs-"

"It's not just the drugs it's the curse," Graham interrupted her.

"Curse?" Belle blinked.

"The whole town is under a curse," He began to explain. "This is going to sound ridiculous but none of us belong here in this world. We come from the Enchanted Lands – a world of Fairy Tales. Twenty-eight years ago the Evil Queen used a dark curse to transport everyone from that world to this one, erasing their memories and giving them new identities and placing herself in the highest position of power so she would be able to control us all,"

"You mean the Mayor?"

"Yes, that's why she scares you," Graham nodded. "Regina is the Evil Queen responsible for all of this. She ripped out my heart and forced me to be her soldier; she kept your prisoner in her castle. That's how we know each other. We were both trapped by her; you promised you'd help me find where she'd hidden my heart and when did we'd flee the castle. But she caught us before we could get into the vault and-"

"Stop," Isabelle cut him off, a sudden weariness creeping into her tone. "There is no such thing as magic,"

"Maybe not in this world but in our world-"

"I said stop it! Please," Isabelle pleaded. "I've spent a long time just trying to get where I am. I can't let your delusions influence me. Please don't ruin it, if I regress they'll increase my dosage and I hate the drugs. I really hate the drugs; nothing makes sense with them,"

"Isabelle," Graham used her Storybroke name, "Why do the nurses say you're here?"

"I can't remember," She spoke frustrated and confused, "But they get very upset when I talk about my dreams, they say they're not healthy and they cause my irrational behaviour,"

"What dreams?"

Isabelle paused, contemplating whether or not to answer him. She sighed, "I dream of castles. The first is warm with white stone walls and red tower slating, it isn't huge but it's still impressive. It always feels so familiar, I know every corner of it as if I'd walked the halls all of my life and I feel as if I know every one who I see there. The next is cold, with dark walls and sharp steeples – the halls are long and always guarded by men in black armour. It scares me."

Graham felt hope rise within him, he was right. Belle did remember, albeit her memory was hazy but likely due to the drugs the hospital had been pumping her with to make her forget.

"But the place I dream of most is not so much a castle," Isabelle continued on, speaking about her dreams gave her a sense of catharsis. "It's more of a large estate. For some reason all of the mirrors are covered up and I find myself with the urge to clean everything, but I don't mind – as strange as it sounds I quite enjoy it. I only ever see one person in the estate…"

"Who do you see?"

Isabelle was silent for quite a while, and Graham feared she wouldn't answer him.

"He's a peculiar man; actually I'm not quite sure if he is a man. His skin is rough and greying and his teeth are sharp, he has the face of a monster but he is not cruel. Well, at least not always. I mostly see him sitting at his spinning wheel, but he get's nervous whenever I try to sit next to him," she frowned a little at the thought, "Like he doesn't want me to get too close,"

"The man in your dreams," Graham spoke, "Was he spinning straw into gold?"

"Yes," Isabelle breathed in surprise, "How did you-"

"Because you told me back when we were held in the Queen's castle," he replied. "The man in your dreams is Rumplestiltskin, the Dark One. You made a deal with him that if he would save your village from the Ogres then you would go with him as his care taker for his home,"

Isabelle shook her head, hesitation in her voice, "No – No those are just dreams. That didn't really happen. The nurses said they are delusions,"

"The nurses are under the curse!" Graham reminded her. "Of course they think your crazy, that's Regina's plan. Rumplestiltskin is the only one powerful enough to match her, that's why she wants to keep you down here until she can use you against him,"

"Even if it were true, what makes her think he would care what she did to me? I was just his caretaker,"

"You are his weakness," Graham clarified, "He was in love with you,"

Isabelle stared dumbfounded. She'd spent so long convincing herself that her dreams were merely delusions caused by some sort of trauma she couldn't quite recall, but they had always felt so real. It was as if each dream were a memory of a life gone by, but here Graham was – a man who seemed to know her dreams without ever being told. She had no idea what to think.

The pair were interrupted by the sound of the steel entrance door opening outside of their cells, the time for chat was over.

"Tomorrow?" Graham whispered.

Isabelle nodded, "Tomorrow,"

* * *

><p>AN: Reviews are love!


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** You guys are too good with your reviews, I love them all :-D Big smiles! Hope you enjoy the next chapter!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 4 – Just Because I'm Hurting, Doesn't Mean I'm Hurt.<strong>

For the first three days Belle kept to herself in the Queen's castle. Despite her best efforts to get out of bed at a reasonable hour she found herself uncharacteristically tired and emotionally drained. The last week and a half had been the worst days of her life. She'd laid her heart on the line and found herself rejected. Her true love wanted nothing to do with her. When she sought comfort with her father and friends she found herself shunned to a tower and tortured by Clerics in order to regain her purity. She longed of rescue, but when it finally arrived it came with a terrible price. The Evil Queen promised her the world and more but only if she assisted her with one task; destroying Rumplestiltskin.

Belle would be a liar if she were to say she hadn't considered saying yes. Her thoughts were all over the place, much like her emotions. One moment she longed to hear one of Rumplestiltskin's sadistic giggles, the next she couldn't bear the sound of his voice in her head. Despite the circumstances which bound them to one another a bond had been formed, one that should have never existed between a prisoner and her jailer. But there it was, slow to grow but grow it did over the year she spent with him. Belle overcame her fear of the trickster much quicker than she expected. She found herself more and more intrigued by him and she began to ask questions, softly at first.

_"Do you get many visitors to the Estate?"_

_"Do you read a lot from your library?"_

_"How ever did you keep this place clean before I arrived?"_

At first he seemed surprised at her attempts to make conversation with him. She could tell he had expected her to be a snivelling wreck, too shaken to pour a decent cup of tea. However despite chipping a cup on her arrival at the estate, Belle prided herself on making a rather good pot of tea. Her questions slowly became more inquisitive.

_"Why do you spin so much?"_

_"Have you always been the way you are?"_

_"Why are all of the mirrors covered up?"_

And then became personal.

_"Was there a son?"  
><em>  
>Evidently this had been too much for the Deal Maker as he had promptly given her a task to go into town under the guise of buying straw for him. She had been shocked that he would trust her to come back, but her heart had sunk as she realised he never expected her to return. He'd rather she run away than ask anymore questions…<p>

That was where this whole mess started. Perhaps if she hadn't tried to become more familiar with the beast he wouldn't have sent her to town and she would have never haven met the Evil Queen on the road. How foolish was she to believe she could break Rumplestiltskin's curse? More so, how foolish was she to believe he'd ever want it broken?

She'd felt heartbreak before in her life, back when her mother died. She was only a young girl at the time not much older than eight years old and it felt like her whole world fell apart. Rumplestiltskin's rejection was the second time she'd feel heart break but of a different variety. Little did she know as she made her way home after being ordered out of his estate that a new pain awaited her in her old castle.

At first her father had thrown his arms around her before sitting her down and ordering that she be brought food and clean clothes. The Kingdom had looked better than she had ever seen it, Rumplestiltskin kept his word; her family and friends were looked after. Maurice apologised profusely to his daughter, over and over again. So much so that Belle could barely fit a word in edge ways. Her father could sense a change in her, sadness in her once optimistic eyes.

_"What did he do to you?"_

He asked with a building fury in his voice.

_"He broke my heart,"_

Belle couldn't help but fall onto her father's shoulder and bare her soul to him. She hadn't felt so vulnerable since she was a child. The brunette could feel her father tense with every good word she spoke about the Deal Maker, when she finally stopped speaking he had insisted that she had been put under an enchantment and she had clearly been abused. There was rage on his face as Belle insisted that she was under no spell and she suffered no abuse at the hands of Rumplestiltskin. When her father announced he was going to assemble a team to kill the beast she had yelled at him for his foolishness and lack of understanding. Their row lasted for most of the evening until Belle had enough and stormed off to her chambers. The next time she saw her father he was handing her over to the Clerics.

_"It's for your own good,"_

Her father's betrayal had shocked her to the core; she'd only just returned to him how could he be sending her away again? Especially when he could see how much she needed him at that very moment. How could he allow these men to drag her away to starve and torture her until they deemed her soul to be cleansed? Belle knew she should be angry, furious even, but still all she could feel was hurt.

She wanted to be brave but summoning the strength for courage was tiring; and she was already so very, very weary. On the third day, she asked the maid who brought her breakfast if it may be possible for her to have a bath drawn – the young girl was surprised but seemed pleased that Belle was more responsive. After she'd had her bath Belle got herself dressed and for the first time in three days she left her chambers.

The halls were long and covered with mirrors, every so often Belle would pass a guard dressed in black. None of them ever reacted to her presence, remaining still and ever vigilant. She began to explore the many rooms within the Queen's Castle, many of which appeared to be guest chamber rooms, servant's quarters or dining rooms. She managed to find the kitchen as well, but true to form she eventually found the room she was unconsciously looking for.

The library wasn't as big as Rumplestiltskin's, but it was still impressive in size. To the far wall there was a fire place with two leather arm chairs in front of it and a chess table in between them. As Belle walked further into the room she could hear voices coming from the arm chairs, two men were sat having a discussion over a game of chess and a tea tray sat on the side table.

"Aren't you worried about what she's planning?" The first man spoke, Belle recognised that voice. The twang was familiar – she recognised it to belong to the Huntsman.

There was a sigh from the other man, "Of course I am, but what can we do? We can only hope that she finds her happiness before she considers more sinister options,"

"You mean there's a chance she could get worse?"

"Well if you'd just killed that girl like you were told-"

"Snow White does not deserve to die," The Huntsman cut the older man off with a slight growl to his voice. "And you know that to be true,"

"I know," the older man sounded troubled, "That was unfair of me, but I can only think had Snow White not done what she did then Regina would -"

The man stopped as he heard the floor board underneath Belle's feet creak and unintentionally announce her entrance. Both heads turned towards her in surprise, the Huntsman on one chair and a shorter, grey haired man on the other.

Belle froze in her steps, "I'm sorry I didn't mean to interrupt – I just… I should leave,"

"No wait," the older man stood up from his seat. "Come join us my Lady, you must be bored senseless having been hiding away in your room the last few days. Here, have my seat,"

Belle hesitated a moment, glancing at the Huntsman who straightened up in his own chair. She crossed the floor, thanking the older man for the seat and took her place at the opposite side of the chess board from the Huntsman.

"Belle isn't it?" the older man asked her.

"Yes," the brunette nodded.

"Lovely to meet you dear," he spoke politely, pouring a cup of tea for her without even asking and adding some sugar. "My name is Henry,"

Belle smiled her thanks as she accepted the tea.

"The Queen's father," The Huntsman added helpfully, watching as Belle's smile somewhat faltered at that revelation.

"Oh," Belle couldn't help the surprise in her voice, "Sorry I just never expected…"

Henry seemed a little amused at Belle's surprise, but waved it off, "Every one has a father my dear, even the 'Evil' Queen,"

"She's lucky to have you," Belle spoke sadly as she took a drink from her tea.

Henry looked at her sympathetically, "I'm sorry to hear about the situation with your father. It was truly disgusting what he did to you, I can only imagine the conflict you must feel,"

"Thank you for the concern," Belle could sense the genuineness of the man's words, and of course they were genuine. This was the Evil Queen's father for goodness sakes, if any parent had experience of standing by their child despite their wrong doings it was him. His love was unconditional.

"Do you play?" The Huntsman motioned towards the chess board.

"It's never been my forte but I have dabbled," Belle nodded.

"You can take over from me then, I must get down to the kitchen and ensure the cook is preparing her Majesty's soup the way she likes," Henry smiled, motioning to his collection of game pieces at the side of the board. "As you can see, I'm winning. Good luck dear,"

The Queen's father patter Belle's shoulder, nodding to the Huntsman as well before he exited the library and leaving the pair alone. They began to play in an awkward silence.

"So…" Belle cleared her throat a little, "How long have you worked for the Queen?"

The Huntsman shifted uncomfortably in his chair, "A year, maybe longer. I can't really say. The days blur into weeks, months into weeks…"

"Do you know what she has planned for me?" Belle tried to catch the Huntsman's eye; eventually he finally looked up from the board and made eye contact with her.

"I can only speculate," He answered truthfully.

Belle made a move with her pawn, "Oh, here I was thinking you were perhaps her right hand man,"

The Huntsman almost laughed, "No, not at all. While I do spend an unhealthy amount of time with the Queen there are only two whom she truly confides in. Her father and the mirror,"

"Mirror?" Belle asked confused.

"There's a man trapped in the realm of mirrors that the Queen consults and uses to assist her gathering information on her enemies," The Huntsman explained. "Where ever there is a mirror, or sometimes on reflective surfaces if they're big enough, he can appear,"

"That answers a few questions about Rumplestiltskin's hatred of mirrors," Belle said as she pictured the many mirrors of his estate covered up or hidden in boxes.

There was a moment of silence as the Huntsman made his next move, "So… If you don't mind me asking, how did a girl like you end up falling for some one like Rumplestiltskin?"

"Have you ever been in love Huntsman?"

He shook his head, "Can't say that I have,"

"Then you'll have to take my word for it when I say that we have no control over who we fall in love with," She smiled sadly. "No matter how hard we try,"

"Have you thought about the Queen's offer?" he asked.

"Of course I have," Belle admitted, "He tore me away from my home, took me to his estate and let me fall in love him. Granted I don't think he ever expected that but it still happened. I loved him, he cast me out and it hurt. It still hurts…"

"But the problem is you still love him," The Huntsman concluded. "You'd truly rather suffer the Queen's wrath than help her defeat a man who is perhaps almost as evil as she is?"

"He is not evil," Belle argued, "Selfish, arrogant, manipulative and slick – yes. He is a complicated being and completely self-serving, but I refuse to believe he is evil,"

The Huntsman seemed taken back by her faith, staring at her as if trying to decipher if she was in fact under one of the imp's enchantments. It would certainly explain a lot.

Belle simply took a sip from her tea and motioned to the chess board.

"It's your turn,"

* * *

><p>Isabelle awoke in her cell with a gasp that forced her to sit up straight in her cot. The cold air of her room hit her as the memory of the warmth from a library's fireplace began to fade. She'd had peculiar dreams before, ones that seemed like memories from a magical place and a former life, but this dream was more detailed. Isabelle saw herself playing chess with a handsome man who spoke with a voice that sounded very much like Graham's, but she had referred to him as Huntsman – as if he had no name.<p>

Could Graham be telling the truth? Had her speaking with him uncovered buried memories? Or had she simply re-lapsed into madness?

In her dream she felt pain, heart-break and fear. Everything about the castle seemed so familiar, even the conversation with the Huntsman gave her a sense of déjà vu. Perhaps the curse wasn't such a far fetched idea after all?

"Miss French?"

Isabelle had barely noticed the nurse enter her cell with her daily pills and the water in her hand, too caught up in her thoughts. She could only sigh in response.

"Let's not do our usual dance today,"

The nurse handed the pills and the water to Belle. It was the drugs that were keeping her memories dormant, and Isabelle needed to remember more. Her feelings for a man whose face she couldn't picture just quite yet made her restless. She needed to remember Rumplestiltskin.

Isabelle took the pills in her mouth and took a drink from her cup of water before opening her mouth to show the nurse that the pills were gone. Once the nurse was satisfied she left Isabelle alone in her cell clutching the cup in her hands as she was sat on her cot.

What the nurse didn't see was that Isabelle had spat her pills into her cup of water.

* * *

><p>The sun set on the seventh day of her stay at the Evil Queen's castle, and Belle nervously awaited the Queen's call. She heard a knock on the door and a familiar voice to her ear.<p>

"Lady Belle," Henry spoke as he opened the door, "The Queen wishes to speak with you,"

"Of course," Belle smoothed down her skirts as she joined the old man by the door. "Lead the way,"

The Queen was waiting by her fire place when Belle and Henry entered the room. She was dressed in her usual black finery, a long dress with crystals glistening on the neckline and the forearms of the sleeves. Belle tried to steady her nerves by pulling at her fingers, she had to be brave. She would not let this woman intimidate her.

"My dear," The Queen plastered a smile to her face. "I trust you have enjoyed your stay?"

"Your hospitality has been most kind," Belle spoke politely.

"And have you made you decision?"

Belle nodded, "Yes. I'm sorry to let you down your Majesty but I simply cannot betray the man I love by assisting you in his down fall. Even if he does not love me in return,"

The Queen's smile dropped so suddenly that Belle could barely be sure it was ever there at all, instead in it's place was a frightening scowl – Belle couldn't help but take a step backwards and the Queen stepped forwards.

"Your naïve loyalty could cost you dearly," She warned. "Is no your final answer?"

Belle straightened her back and looked her defiantly in the eye, "I couldn't live with myself if I said yes,"

The Queen tilted her head, "Very well. Guards!"

Belle heard the doors behind her open and two large men clad in black armour walked in, each of them grabbing one of her arms. She felt a pool of dread form in her stomach.

"Take her to the dungeon," The Queen ordered. "Life is about to get a lot less luxurious for you my dear. Father, tell the servants to prepare the carriage – I shall be paying Rumplestiltskin a visit,"

"What are you going to do?" Belle couldn't help the worry in her voice.

"I just can't stand the thought of poor Rumplestiltskin sitting all alone at his spindle wheel, pining for the woman he cast out," The Queen feigned sympathy for the imp. "He should know that she'll never be coming back. After all, even the Dark One deserves to know when his true love has passed away,"

Fear filled Belle's eyes, "Passed away?"

"Yes, it was tragic," The Queen grinned cruelly. "Tortured until her heart break and physical pain became too much to bare, the only escape was to throw yourself off the tower,"

"I would never—He'll never believe that!" Belle's voice shook.

"Guilt is a powerful emotion dear," The Queen looked thoroughly amused. "You'd be surprised what it makes us believe,"

Belle pulled at her arms, trying to free herself from the grip of the Queen's guards. This was it; this was the end, but she wouldn't go down without a fight. The Queen waved her hand at her henchmen.

"Take her away,"

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Apologies it's a bit of a filler chapter – and it's a bit short! Sorry! Reviews are love!


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: **Bah sorry guys about the lateness of this entry – life kinda got in the way. However as always I really appreciate your reviews! Plus always good to see new folk aboard the Story Alert express :-) hee hee!

Giving you a time frame – this chapter takes place the day after the 'Desperate Souls' Episode.

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><p><strong>Chapter 5 – New Sheriff in Town<strong>

The Mayor had been in a foul mood for days. Things had been looking up briefly after having to get rid of her favourite pet as she was just about ready to promote Sydney to town Sheriff, but her plans were foiled thanks to Emma and her unlikely ally Mr Gold. She wasn't quite sure what sort of game the local pawn broker was playing but she knew both him and his alter ego well enough that it could be nothing good. She'd had suspicions about Mr Gold and just how aware he was of his former life ever since the curse was first cast, however her suspicions peaked during their conversation at her orchard after Miss Swan had rolled into town. Regina had simply been biding her time before she decided to poke at that sleeping dragon, but with Gold's unusual interest in Emma she feared she may have to come face to face with Rumplestiltskin sooner than she'd have liked.

Regina had been genuinely stunned when the Sheriff Election results came back. After Emma had admitted that Mr Gold had started the fire that had almost killed the Mayor in order to have Emma save Regina and fulfil a 'hero' role she was sure Sydney would clinch a victory, and once again she'd have Storybroke well and truly under her control. The Mayor grudgingly handed Graham's badge over to that infuriatingly smug blonde while Mary Margaret chirped proudly beside her, like a Momma bird that'd seen her baby take flight for the first time. It filled the Queen with a sickening rage every time she saw the fair dark haired woman smile at the blonde stray she'd recently adopted as a room mate; every second they spent bonding was a step closer to unravelling her curse. There would be no happy ending there. The Princess did not deserve her family back. Snow White would know the Queen's pain; she would remain unloved until her dying breath, for there was no curse worse than to be alone.

She knew that curse all to well; it was down to that meddlesome little Princess that Regina was condemned to a loveless marriage and no hope of ever being with her True Love. If she'd just kept her mouth shut-

Regina forced her eyes closed as her train of thought threatened to wander into emotional territory. The last thing she wanted to show Graham when she visited was a hint of her mask slipping. She was better than that.

The Mayor gave a nod to the nurse on duty who handed her a key as she wordlessly returned the nod. Regina fixed her black hand bag over her shoulder as she carried on down the corridor before reaching the familiar cell – she slipped the key into the lock and opened the door to Graham's cell.

Graham awoke with a start as he heard the door close behind her, Regina couldn't help but notice how untamed he had begun to look. His unkempt beard and messy curls reminded her of the old days when he known as 'The Huntsman' and she was feared by all as the 'Evil Queen', but here he was merely seen as a lunatic yet she was still untouchable as Mayor.

"I'm sorry dear, did I wake you?"

Graham gave a grunt as he attempted to sit up; the drugs appeared to be taking their toll on the young man. He'd been in the secret psychiatric ward for a little over two weeks now.

"What do you want?"

Regina pulled out a newspaper from her hand bag, "I figured you'd be getting a little bored being cooped up in your cell and cut off from the world - not knowing what's going on. I wanted to bring you some comfort,"

Graham looked surprised, yet suspicious as he took the newspaper from the Mayor. He glossed over the headline and couldn't help the smile that crept onto his face.

"Emma's been elected as Sheriff?" Graham looked up at her with a smug grin. "You must have been thrilled,"

"Keep reading," Regina crossed her arms.

She watched as his eyes scanned the story. Her face light up with a sense of satisfaction as she saw his eyes darken while he read the part of the article mentioning Mr Gold's involvement. The old pawn broker's interest in his ex-deputy obviously bothered him.

"As you can see it looks like your action Barbie was working with Mr Gold," Regina theorised. "From what I gather she had an attack of conscience before the election and sold him out. Everybody knows Mr Gold doesn't take kindly to people who cross him,"

"Why did you bring me this?" Graham asked irritated.

"I thought you'd like to keep up to date with the latest Storybroke gossip," Regina feigned innocence. "Or at the very least keep tabs on Miss Swan, if I remember correctly you two had gotten particularly close before your incarceration,"

He looked up at her with his teeth gritted. Regina could barely contain her grin; with every mention of Emma she could see Graham become more and more frustrated. Like a wolf in a cage.

"It would just break my heart to have to come down here one day to tell you she'd gotten herself into trouble because she'd been _dealing_with the wrong people," Regina chose her words carefully.

"Oh I see what this really is," Graham's tone held a hint of knowing. "You're worried,"

"Excuse me?"

Graham gave a chuckle, "You're worried that Gold has woken up like I have… why else would someone like him go out of his way for Emma – you're scared he might oppose you and help end the curse,"

"Again with this nonsense, I thought after spending some time here alone with your thoughts you might have dropped this curse talk," Regina rolled her eyes.

He shook his head, "Not a chance your Majesty – somebody needs to stay awake long enough to stop you,"

"Stop me?" Regina asked curiously. "From doing what?"

"From condemning this town to an eternity of misery and heart ache," He stood up from his cot in front of her.

"But don't you see dear," Regina leaned in close to him as she lowered her voice to a more familiar and dangerous tone, "I've already won."

The Queen's apple red lips turned up into a smirk, "Everyone is already trapped here in this cold hopeless existence - ripped from everyone and everything they love the most. The suffering of this town will be my 'Happy Ever After'… and there's nothing you, Rumplestiltskin or Snow White's brat can do about it."

Graham held her gaze, an unexpected confidence washing over his tired face, "We'll see about that now won't we…Your Majesty,"

* * *

><p>The town seemed brighter than it had before, Henry couldn't help but grin as he noticed the difference in Storybroke ever since Emma crossed the border. The clock was ticking away and his 'mother' was slowly loosing control of the town politics. Soon the magic would awaken. Today was Emma's first official day as Sheriff and he couldn't be more proud.<p>

He safely parked his bike at the bottom of Emma and Mary Margaret's apartment block before running up the steps with his back pack in tow. He knocked on the door and was soon met by the surprised face of Mary Margaret.

"Henry!" She smiled at him before looking slightly nervous, "Does your mother know you're here?"

Henry gave an unconcerned shrug, "She said she'd be in and out of meetings all day – she won't be home 'til late. I told the babysitter I was hanging out with a friend,"

Mary Margaret looked disapproving, "Henry what has Dr Hopper told you about lying?"

"I thought it would be okay since technically it's not untrue… we're friends, right?" Henry flashed Mary Margaret his best puppy dog eyes that without fail melted his teacher's hearts. He could swear something inside her felt the true familial bond between them. "I wanted to know how Emma's first day went,"

Mary Margaret's resolve softened and she opened the door wider, "Come on in, she'll be home any minute,"

Henry grinned and walked into the apartment, the smell of cherry pie hit him as soon as he stepped inside. He couldn't remember the last time he smelled home baking outside of Granny's.

"Wow Miss Blanchard that smells amazing," His nose led him straight to the kitchen area.

"Awww!" Mary Margaret smiled genuinely. "Thank you Henry. When Emma get's home we can celebrate her first day properly with some good ol' home baked pie,"

"You celebrate things with pie?" he asked sitting on one of the breakfast stools.

"Well," she grinned mischievously as she picked up a bottle of red wine from the counter top, "I hadn't been expecting your visit so we'll have to save the real celebration until you're home safe,"

Mary Margaret turned and began to pour a glass of juice for Henry when they heard the front door open and shut.

"I'm home!"

"Emma!" Henry leapt off his stool and rushed over to his biological mother.

"Kid?" Emma gave him the same wary look Mary Margaret had given him earlier, almost mirror perfect had it not been for the blonde hair. "You know your Mom will kill me if-"

"It's fine! Really, she's busy," Henry cut her off, briefly noticing she was carrying a dark leather jacket in her arms. "I wanted to see how your first day went,"

"It wasn't too exciting," Emma shrugged before becoming distracted, "What's that smell?"

"Mary Margaret made pie," Henry informed her.

"Awesome," Emma looked genuinely happy at the prospect of some of Mary Margaret's baking, "You two cut me a slice and I'll join you in a sec,"

Henry watched the blonde disappear up the stair case to her bedroom area with the dark jacket still tucked cautiously under her arm. He knew that jacket – he'd seen it almost every time he bumped into Sheriff Graham, he'd seen it the last time he spoke to him…

_"What's that?" Graham asked as he tapped a drawing in Henry's book. The Evil Queen was stood in front of a wall full of drawers with a familiar symbol above the top of it. "I saw that too. The wolf was howling at it."_

_"That's her vault," Henry replied grimly. "It's where she put your heart,"_

_Graham nodded slowly as his eyes dawned in realisation, "The wolf wants me to find it,"_

_Henry could see everything slotting into place for the confused man in front of him. Graham looked as if he finally knew what to do._

_"Thank you Henry,"_

It was the last time he'd seen the Sheriff, a man he'd known all of his life. Apart from Archie he was quite possibly he was the only other male figure he had in his life that he could perhaps look up to. Henry wasn't blind to Graham's flaws; he noticed his inability to disobey Regina – until Emma arrived.

_"You kissed my Mom?"_

Henry could remember feeling uneasy with that information. The idea of the Sheriff and Emma had childishly made him feel grossed out and a little uneasy. Had the two pursued a relationship Henry wasn't sure he'd have liked the idea of having to share his biological Mother with someone else just yet – but since Graham's death he'd found himself wondering what it might have happened if they had gotten together. Safely away from the Evil Queen's clutches he imagined the Huntsman would have been a noble protector for Emma, and perhaps another hero for him to aspire to be like. Henry had his time to grieve, but his guilt still lingered beneath the surface. Would everyone who woke up from the curse before it was broken die?

The ten year old sighed to himself before heading back to the kitchen area where Mary Margaret was setting out slices of pie with a little whipped cream on the side of each plate. The raven haired beauty noticed his change in demeanour.

"What's wrong?"

"Emma's brought home Sheriff Graham's jacket," Henry answered; he saw Mary Margaret's eyes fill with concern. She knew very well of Henry's guilt over the death of the town Sheriff and much like everyone else, she'd tried to convince him he had no part in his untimely demise.

"Do you think she loved him?"

He could see she was caught off guard, "Love is a powerful word Henry. Emma and Graham worked together, they were really good friends… but love? They didn't know each other very long,"

"But you're in love with David right?" Henry asked without beating around the bush. He watched the young woman bristle slightly, uncomfortable with the subject choice. "You sat by him the whole way through his coma and you didn't even know his name. He woke up because he recognised your voice and your story…"

"Yes… Well…" Mary Margaret was sure what to say; instead she placed his plate of pie in front of him with a plastered smile. "Better eat up – it's always best while it's hot!"

She quickly shuffled out of the kitchen area under the guise of looking for her cell phone; Henry knew she hadn't quite gotten over the whole David situation, and he was glad. Snow White was supposed to be with Charming, she wasn't supposed to get over him – Mary Margaret would have to fight. In this reality though, she may need the extra nudge.

Emma joined him at the breakfast bar a moment after and gave an eager smile as she picked up her fork, before noticing Henry had yet to touch his dessert.

"Well what are you waiting for kid? Saying Grace?" she nudged him.

"Just waiting for you," he smiled before picking up his own fork as well and they both got stuck in.

Henry and Emma were almost finished by the time Mary Margaret re-joined them. The ten year old silently wondered if mentioning David had upset her. It was obvious to him that they were meant to be together, he only wished they could see it as simply as he did. Henry plotted away in his head as he took another forkful of cherry and cream, it tasted like heaven on his tongue. People often said their own Grandmother's baking was the best, but he'd never been able to agree.

He did now.

* * *

><p>"How are you feeling?"<p>

"Rough,"

Isabelle frowned in the darkness as she could hear the weariness in Graham's voice. It had been roughly two weeks since she told Graham about her dream of them in the Queen's library – or rather her memory. He'd been excited when she told him, but unfortunately she hadn't dreamt of anything significant since.

"You haven't been able to get rid of the pills like I showed you?" She sighed.

"Nope," Graham moved closer to the hole in the wall they used to communicate through, "She keeps going to take the cup from me so I have to down it anyway,"

Time was ticking by and they'd yet to come up with any possible escape plan, mostly due to lack of communication time. Whenever the nurses would walk the halls they were unable to speak in fear that someone would discover the hole in the wall and cover it up.

The brunette chewed her lip lightly with frustration for their situation. "What did the Mayor want?"

Isabelle had heard muffled voices coming from beyond the wall, but she was unsure who the other voice belonged to until Regina opened the slot on her door to briefly check on her. Those dark taunting eyes haunted her from another life that she couldn't quite remember.

"What does Regina ever want?" he rolled his eyes. "She's playing mind games; she brought me a news paper so I could read about Emma's promotion to Sheriff. She wanted to show me that Storybroke goes on with or without me I guess,"

"Emma's the girl who's supposed to save us right?" Isabelle asked.

Graham nodded, momentarily forgetting she could barely see him, "Yes. She's the one Rumplestiltskin said would break the curse,"

"Well surely if she's in a position of power that's a good thing? You don't seem very pleased…"

"I am… I'm not worried about her _being _Sheriff, I'm worried about how she got there,"

"What do you mean?"

For a moment Graham debated on how much information he should burden the girl with, but he knew if they were going to help each other formulate a plan to escape there could be no secrets between them.

"I'm not sure exactly what happened… You know how the Queen twists things," he rubbed his forehead. "There was a fire – Emma pulled Regina out of the building before either of them got hurt. Mr Gold set the whole thing up for Emma to look like a hero and win the election,"

Isabelle was quite for a moment before she spoke, her voice laced with hope.

"So… he remembers?"

"Possibly but the curse is still strong-"

"And if he's helping Emma that means he's on our side!"

"Well let's not get ahead of ourselves – Rumplestiltskin is only ever on the side that benefits him the most at any given time," Graham reasoned.

"Hmm," Isabelle pondered, "I wish I could remember more but that does sound true,"

Graham could hear the sadness in her tone, "You'll remember more once I get you out of here I promise. You've managed to save so much of your memory on your own, who knows how much you'll get back once you meet Emma?"

"You certainly have a lot of confidence in this girl,"

"I do," Graham nodded. "And I have confidence in you - In us. Once upon a time you promised me that I would get my heart back, and I promised you that you would return to your True love. I swear I will honour that promise Isabelle,"

"…Belle," She corrected him with a smile to her voice.

"My name is Belle,"

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Next chapter should be up by Wednesday folks! Now serious business regarding His Royal Highness, Baelocchio: the Wizard of Neverland! (Totally stolen from the OUAT boards at Television Without Pity dot com)

So as you all know we are nearing the big August W. Booth reveal episode. I have no idea who he is, so that's why I warn you know that this story may end up going AU in terms of Augusts' identity. You know, unless I'm really psychic!


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** Ahh, apologies lads. I know I said Wednesday… but Thursday is good too, right? Yes? Anyway… Welcome aboard all my new story alerts! :-)

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 6 – Price of a Chipped Cup<strong>

When Emma Swan first moved to the small town of Storybrooke she feared she would be bored by the quietness in comparison to her big city lifestyle, but boy did the residents of the town prove her wrong. From amnesia patients suddenly waking up and going missing to power mad Mayors, Emma had her hands full from the beginning.

The last few weeks had been no different. In the short space of time from her election to town Sheriff to the current day she found herself reuniting two homeless children with their father, being intrigued by a Stranger on a motorbike who'd yet to tell her his name, and falsely accusing the Mayor of embezzling town funds. Not to mention her room mate appeared to be having an affair with a married man who had no memory of who he was pre-coma.

She now found herself driving across town searching for Mr Gold; she knew from experience that the antique's seller was far from what he seemed. After taking Moe French's van due to late payments on a loan, Mr Gold found that his home had been burgled. She could see the fury burning in his eyes as he discovered that Emma had failed to deliver _all _that had been stolen from him.

_"You've recovered nothing," Gold sneered, heading out the Sheriff's door. "Something's missing,"_

_"I'll get it when I find him," Emma sounded insulted at his lack of gratitude._

_"Not if I find him first," He warned._

He'd been looking for something specific, clearly something more valuable than she'd expected. Mr Gold was a wealthy man after all, who knows what he had stashed away in his mansion?

Her hunch had been right; she could see the flower truck parked outside the cabin in the woods. Emma rushed out of her car and as she approached the cabin she could hear yelling, and cries of pain.

"She's no coming back, and it's _your fault!"_

"Aghh!"

"It's your fault! You are her _father_!"

Emma could see Gold bring his cane down forcefully on the terrified florist again and again through the window. This was definitely about something more than a few stolen trinkets. She let herself into the cabin cautiously as Gold continued to yell at Moe French.

"It's your fault!" Gold emphasised every accusation with another whack of his cane. "It's _your _fault!"

As Gold brought the stick back ready to strike the florist again, the Sheriff grabbed hold of his wrist. Emma looked from a battered French back to a furious Gold with wide eyes.

"Stop,"

It was all she could think to say, and to her surprise and Moe's relief the pawn broker listened. The undisguised fury on his face slowly died as his breathing returned to normal, and soon she was left staring back at the same stoic mask Mr Gold wore so well.

Something wasn't right about these two. There was a history – involving French's daughter she gathered.

Just who was she and why had she been so important to Gold?

* * *

><p>The Queen's dungeons were dark and damp, much how she'd expected them to be. Belle had been dragged there kicking and screaming a week ago after refusing to assist the Queen on bringing down Rumplestiltskin. The guards had shackled her wrists and attached them to chains on the wall before leaving her to rot.<p>

On the first night in the jail she had called for him, over and over again. No one came. Rumplestiltskin could not hear her within the Queen's walls, and now that he believed her to be dead she lost all hope of him ever searching for her. After the anger and the defiance left her, Belle felt herself helpless and she wept.

She wept for her father.

She wept for her lost love.

She wept for herself.

She found herself longing for warmth of Rumplestiltskin's estate as the chills began to set in. Belle recalled many an evening of her sitting by the fire place with a book in her lap while the Master of the house continued his spinning, both pretending not to notice when they accidentally caught one another's eye as they briefly looked up from their activity. They weren't uncomfortable glances, they were just strange… neither one of them had been quite sure what they meant.

Belle cursed herself for her own stupidity, who did she think she was attempting to break the Dark One's curse? She hadn't proven herself a brave woman; she'd proven herself to be a silly little girl unable to clearly contemplate the consequences of her actions. Things had been fine before, good even! Now everything was ruined… forever.

The squeaky dungeon door gave a loud creek before two guards dragged their prisoner roughly over to Belle's cell, with the Queen following behind with a face like thunder. As the guards pulled the man inside of jail to strap his arms up in the shackles just across the cell from Belle, she recognised the prisoner to be the Huntsman.

"Get off me!" he growled, the two guards released him after he was secure in his cell.

"Temper temper," The Queen warned as the guards left the dungeon after locking the cell door. "That's what put you down here, remember? Now I'm going to give you one last chance to apologise and you may return upstairs,"

The Huntsman only glared back at Regina in response.

Regina's eyes darkened, "Fine – then you can rot down here with your new little friend until you change your mind,"

She turned and began to leave before Belle's hoarse voice haulted her.

"Stop right there!" Belle called after her as she pulled herself as close he chains would allow to the bars. "What did you say to Rumplestiltskin?"

The Queen turned around with a malicious smirk on her face, "I'm sorry dear, you seem to be under the illusion that you're entitled to make demands around here,"

Belle stared her down, "Tell me,"

"I told him that you'd been tortured within an inch of your life. Shunned by your family and all those you held dear, you were scarred both physically and mentally," Regina's smile was laced with evil. "And finally when you'd had enough you threw yourself out of the tower,"

Belle was aghast that the Queen had gone through with her threat. She could feel a panic rise in her chest as she wondered what such a lie would cause the Dark One to do.

"He…" Her voice shook uncertainly, "He didn't believe that. He wouldn't!"

"He seemed pretty convinced from where I was standing," Regina gave a careless shrug. "You know what he said after he found out?"

Belle gripped the cell bars tighter as the Queen leaned in closer to her face, Regina's dark eyes bore into her soul waiting for a reaction from her which Belle tried with all her might not to give

"Good riddance," The Queen said cruelly.

Belle couldn't help but falter and fell back from the bars, "You're lying… You're lying!"

"Am I?" Regina quirked a brow before breaking into smug laughter, bordering on a cackle.

The brunette felt her rage and grief reach a boiling point as she lunged at the bars in an attempt to grab or claw at the Queen, "You heartless, evil witch!"

Her outburst only cause the Queen to laugh more before she turned her back on her prisoners and clicked her heeled boots up the stone steps, slamming the dungeon door shut behind her. Belle continued to yell insults after her even after the Queen had left.

The shackles cut into Belle's wrists as she pulled on them with all her strength, "You're a twisted monster!"

"Settle down," The Huntsman's voice stopped her tantrum.

Belle turned to face him with puffy, yet fierce red eyes. "Don't tell me what to do! I have just lost all hope I ever had of escaping this hell hole! I'm allowed to be angry; I'm allowed to be upset! You have no idea what I'm feeling, all you have to do to gain your freedom is to apologise to that… that manipulative she-devil!"

The Huntsman rolled his eyes, "Believe it or not I'm just as much of a prisoner in this castle as you are, in fact maybe more so!"

Belle's anger quelled slightly as intrigue took over, "How so?"

He sighed as though he had regretted speaking and deliberately avoided her gaze.

"What does she hold over you?" Belle moved to sit as near to him as she could.

"She has my heart," He told the brunette in front of him, upon seeing her confused look he began to explain. "I mean she literally has my heart. She wanted me to kill someone for her and when I didn't she drove her hand into my chest and pulled out my heart,"

Belle's hand shot to her mouth in shock, "How… How are you still alive?"

He shrugged, "I've no idea. She keeps it locked away in a large vault, which means if she were ever to destroy it then I would die. The Queen insists I do whatever she asks and never leave the castle without her permission, or else…"

"She'll kill you," Belle finished horrified. "Oh gosh. I am so sorry. I've been terribly selfish – I didn't even stop to think about what you were being threatened with…"

The Huntsman waved off her concerns, "Its fine, really,"

It didn't feel fine, Belle felt horrible for being so rude to him before hand and for thinking the worst. She had suspected that the Huntsman was more to the Queen than just a soldier from the beginning, but she had never pondered the idea that he did her bidding against his will.

The silence between them made her feel all the worse.

"Why did she throw you down here?" Belle asked.

"Back-chat," The Huntsman smirked somewhat like a naughty school boy. "I told her I thought it was un-necessary to have you locked away down here for so long. I didn't think letting you get sick from lack of sunlight or the damp would do anyone any good,"

Belle's face was a mix of surprise and gratitude, "Why would you defend me?"

"Ever since our game of chess in the library I knew you were a good person; pure of heart," He explained. "I haven't found many people who I particularly like over my life. I was raised by wolves, in comparison to humans they have always seemed the more civilised of societies. Some one has to be pretty special to gain my loyalty,"

Looking into his eyes Belle could see no trace of deception, only truth. After days of being on edge emotionally Belle could feel the tears prick at her eyes. She felt the need to apologise immediately for her sorry state.

"I'm so sorry," She wiped at her eyes, "I just… My mind is all over the place,"

"Understandable," He nodded, while he couldn't properly empathise with the young girl due to his lack of heart, he could understand. "Dry those eyes, you don't want her to think she's won,"

Belle nodded defiantly, sniffing slightly. "She will not win. I won't let her, she doesn't deserve to. I will get out of this place," She looked at him poignantly, "We both will. I swear it,"

The Huntsman looked doubtful, "You maybe, but me? Unlikely,"

"Nothing is impossible with a little faith," She insisted laying her hand on top of his as they rested on the cold floor. "I promise as soon as I am free of this dungeon I shall help you re-gain your heart. I won't leave this castle without you,"

The Huntsman looked at her as if she was mad, but the determination on the young girl's face told him that she meant every word.

"In that case if we're making impossible promises to one another," He pretended to humour her for a moment before speaking seriously. "I promise to reunite you with Rumplestiltskin, and make him see what a fool he's been to let you go,"

A bright smile that reached her eyes broke out on Belle's face.

"Deal," She nodded.

The Huntsman nodded back, "Deal,"

The pair shook hands and fell into a comfortable silence. Belle began to feel better about things, now that she had a friend she didn't fell quite so alone. The Huntsman was a good man in a bad situation, he did not deserve to be tarred by the same brush as the Queen. A thought suddenly came to her and she quirked her head a little at the him.

"Huntsman," She queried, "Don't you have a proper name?"

He shook his head, "No, I've never been given one,"

"That's so sad…" Belle pondered what it must have been like to have no human family -to grow up without a name. "Well if we're doing business then you must have a name, I can't very well keep calling you 'The Huntsman' can I?"

He gave a chuckle, "I suppose not. What should I be called?"

Belle took a long moment to look him over. She had sometimes wondered on names she would give her future children. It was quite a task giving someone a name, especially a fully grown man.

"Richard… No! No… Derren?" She scrunched her face up a little, no that still wasn't right. From the look on his face the Huntsman wasn't impressed either.

"Oh!" She grinned excitedly. "What about Graham?"

"Graham?"

"You don't like it?" Belle asked a little disappointed. As she took in his messy beard and dark sandy curls she could see the name working very well.

"Actually," He gave a smile, "I do like it. I like it a lot,"

"Then it's settled!" Belle grinned satisfied; she stretched her hand out towards him again. "Hello there, my name is Belle. It's a pleasure to meet you,"

Graham played along and shook her hand.

"My name is Graham, the pleasure is all mine,"

* * *

><p>Belle had not been awake for long; however she was unable to get the dream from her mind. She felt as if she had been transported from one cell to another. She wanted nothing more than to pull off the padding of her cell wall and call on Graham to tell him all about her memory of them in the Queen's dungeon. Unfortunately it was still day time, and the nurses were still around.<p>

A noise from her cell door startled her, she realised the shutter had been opened. To her surprise Belle looked up to find herself staring into the same dark eyes she had not long seen in her dream.

Regina observed her for a second, silently, but with a familiar smug grin. She was happy about something, which could only mean bad news for everyone else. Regina closed the shutter and once again Belle was left on her own.

She feared what ever it was the Queen was plotting.

* * *

><p>Mr Gold fell onto the couch of his living area a half an hour after making bail. Sheriff Swan's face had been a picture; unfortunately he'd been in no frame of mind to enjoy it. Twenty-eight years of hiding his awareness of his true memories from the Queen had been thrown down the drain in a matter of hours. He'd lost his upper hand.<p>

For a chipped cup.

It made him so angry that he felt as if he might just destroy the cup after all. What use was it anyway? It would never bring back what it represented, his Belle. He cursed himself for allowing himself to be manipulated by her Majesty.

_"Be careful, emotional entanglements can lead us down very dangerous paths."_

Words he'd spoke only days ago to the Sheriff and Sydney in the forest. He had no idea that the foreboding of his advice would be meant for him instead. Gold ran his fingers over the fragile broken tea cup; it was the only thing he had left that she had touched, but it had left him vulnerable and lost him valuable points in his game against Regina.

_"Love makes us sick, haunts our dreams and destroys our days…"_

Even the mighty Rumplestiltskin had a weakness – and the Queen had pounced on it. Regina may have won this round, but Gold ready to hit back.

If he had to fight dirty then so be it.

* * *

><p>"… I've no idea what triggered the dream, but it doesn't matter! Things are starting to slot into place,"<p>

Belle beamed late in the night as she told Graham of her memory, she loved to hear the sound of hope in her friend's voice every time she'd remember something new.

"Did Regina say anything to you when she visited?" he asked.

"No, she just stared… and grinned rather ominously actually,"

"Hmm," Graham sounded concerned, Belle could tell he would wrack his brains trying to figure out what the Mayor could possibly be scheming now.

"I can't stay here much longer," Belle leaned her head against the wall. "I need to breathe, see the sky, and feel the sun… I need to see _him_,"

"What if he doesn't have his memories?"

"Then I'll just have to make him remember,"

Graham chuckled at her determination, "Even you don't have all_ your_ memories yet!"

"Why should a little thing like that stop me?" Belle smiled lightly with optimism as she began to think of everyway possible out of their current prison. Tomorrow was a Thursday, which meant the larger of the two nurses who usually tended to the ward wouldn't be in until the afternoon. The smaller nurse would have to give out the medication. Belle began to wonder that just maybe…

"I think tomorrow could be our day Graham," She told him as a plan formulated in her head, a sloppy plan albeit but a plan none the less.

"What do you mean? You won't do anything foolish will ya?"

"Of course not," Belle smiled. "Just be prepared.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Reviews are love! Thanks!


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